


Dragons and Magicks

by JadeLoverXD



Series: Random stories of fandoms [5]
Category: Winx Club
Genre: Bloom goes through...wrath?of sorts?, Brotherly Valtor, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, FORGET NICKELODEON FUCK NETFLIX, Flora secretly spillin da tea, Guilt, I actually wanted netflix to continue the Baba Yaga thing, I added to the years because Bloom was still young, I didnt make this clear:, Implied torture on Valtor, Its Roxy that adopts Valtor and Aires, Kill his wolf and it'll be John Wick with magic, NABU THE CINNAMON ROLL ISN'T DEAD, Otherwise it wouldnt go right, ROXY WILL FOREVER AND ALWAYS WILL REMAIN THE BABY BEAN, Roxy has Sirenix cause fuck nickelodeon, Season 8 is such a fucking dissapointment, Siblings are everywhere and sometimes they want to kill you because ur moms say so, Slow Burn, Takes place right after the bloomix season, Thirsty witches cause why not, VRoxy—the bro-sis duo, Valtor gets offended when someone calls him old, Valtor goes through guilt, Valtor has a wolf, Valtor is secretly a cinnabean because he has no friends, Valtor will crush you with a violin John Wick Style, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:37:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeLoverXD/pseuds/JadeLoverXD
Summary: Valtor isn't defeated, but the Flame within him is.Sort of.Takes place seven years later, right after Bloomix.Bloom felt many things in her lifetime as a fairy.But the one thing she felt as in this moment was betrayal. Even the fire within burned brighter than the anger that surfaced.Roxy had lied. Lied. To her. Her best friend.Bloom has been lied to plenty of times, taken some personally more than the others.But protecting Valtor? That was one thing that has already gone too far. Roxy kept many secrets, but this was the worst of all.The cut on her face stings, reminding her of their own failure.Her failure.
Relationships: Bloom/Valtor | Baltor (Winx Club), Mandragora & Valtor | Baltor (Winx Club), Roxy & Valtor | Baltor (Winx Club)
Series: Random stories of fandoms [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1530671
Comments: 22
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to get another unfinished version of chaos (I'm so so sorry SJM famdom)

Of all the things Valtor had witnessed before going into the omega dimension, he'd never seen a fairy progress so... quickly into her powers.

He had been watching the six fairies ever since his 'defeat' seven years ago now and then—through trial and error, gaining new abilities and friends and enemies as they did. He slowly regained his strength, bit by bit since he no longer was part of the Dragon Flame. When he was able to move farther than the home he made, he summoned enough strength to teleport himself to the human world.

He'd been here only once before—back when the Earth fairies still ruled the land, barely as the humans ended them as time passes along.

The smell of ozone stung his nose each time he took a breath into a well-populated city, unlike the other magical worlds and dimensions. He found, during these years on earth, he missed the magical cities. Missed how there was much chaos compared to human cities.

Valtor picks up his violin, setting it under his chin, and sighs. The last time he played, he played a song out of regret and failure, shame and longing. If it was just to pity himself, he couldn't tell. He felt as if he had lost a part of him each time he reached into that good where his bit of the Flame had resided. Now all that was left were the ashes of a former magic-hoarder and a baseless demon in disguise of a man, created by the Three Ancestral Witches.

He searches deep within for any type of feeling for him to play and still manages to find none.

His brow furrows, setting the instrument back in its case and pushing it away, ignoring the frock coat in the closet, and walks barefoot outside.  
His house was almost like a cottage, surrounded by the forest and away from where he thinks he can do the most damage. He didn't trust himself after he came here.

One of the benefits of Earth he enjoyed was either the scenery, the coffee that he consumed like a drunken sailor does mead, the isolation in a densely populated area, or the wildlife that seemed rather duller than any other creature combined.

He whistles once, twice, until a furry head emerges from the bushes surrounding the trees, "What've you done this time?" He usually didn't have to whistle more than once unless the wolf has gotten himself into trouble... again, "Aries," Valtor warns, just as the wolf disappears behind the bushes, "It's like he thinks I'm telling him to continue," he mumbles to himself as he heads into the house to grab his shoes and heads back outside.

"Aries!" He calls, scaring a grazing pack of deer and a flock of nearby birds in the process. The wolf he had found when a car had smacked his skull as he was trying to cross the road, his little body flinging to one side of the road. Valtor managed to save him, but he was still messed up in the head enough to try to be friends with a Moose mating. He made salves, to try to keep his fragile skull from shattering completely infused with a bit of magic.

He didn't dare try to use nature to point him in the direction of Aries. The last time he did, he got a branch to the face and gut, promptly catching the warning that the trees sent his way and faired his own. If he didn't mess with nature, nature wouldn't mess with him.

"C'mon you dumb wolf. No more digging the roots of trees," a bark of response sounded behind him, and then a muffled growl, "or... killing even more deer," he says a bit too late when he sees the blood flecks on Aries's muzzle. The wolf looked at him with his tail wagging happily, his tongue casually lolling out of the side of his mouth as he waits for Valtor to make a move.

"Do you even realize how many antlers I have?" Aries blinks, oblivious to the question, "Of course you don't," He pats his neck, careful not to touch the weirdly shaped head, and tossed the deer over his shoulder,

"Good boy."

* * *

_He dragged himself out of the pit with bruised claws, his wings behind him shredded and burnt. His lungs burned as the Flame in him extinguished, forcing him to cough up ash as the Witches above him cackled._

_They made him, they could end him. You'd just have to beg like the worm you are._

_Another wave of fire burned inside him, eliciting an ungodly shriek of pain from the demon._

_"Did you really think we were through with you Valtor?" One witch chimed._

_"Of course he did, he wouldn't be writhing in absolute pain if he didn't," Another replied, hovering over his body._

_Phantom nails scratch over a burn mark on his face, a look of delight crossing her features as he flinched and coughs up more ash, "Pretty Princess of Domino did a number on you didn't she? Took away that Flame that burned so..."_

_Valtor boots out the image of Bloom—the one who hosted the Flame of The Great Dragon. She was the reason why he was here. Wasn't she? And yet he felt no need for vengeance or some stupid spell. He felt as if he deserved this. He first thought for a while that because the Ancestral Witches were the cause of his creation, they'd deserve every bit of suffering. But they didn't even lift a finger for him to do the things that he did. Because he wanted to. It was his choice to go down that path, to hurt people to get what he wanted._

_"Oh look!" One exclaims, sensing the defeat coming off of him in waves, "He blames himself. Isn't that just marvelous!"_

_"Well, don't be shy," he grits his teeth to suppress a groan of pain as a spectral nail lifts his chin, "What have you got to say for yourself?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you've noticed, Valtor doesn't think like he did before (mainly because the fight at the end of season 3 got to him, and because the human world has rubbed off on him so he's adapted pretty well.) He doesn't show his face—his real face around for fear of getting recognized, sometimes he'll go without a glamour And he has nightmares about the Ancestral Witches.  
Aren't I a doll?


	2. Chapter 2

"Back again eh?" His top lip curls, Aries let's out an excited yip from behind him, and bounds towards the fairy, "Hello Arie." She cooes, and scratches at his neck, "Another therapy session?" He nods running a hand through the short bristles of his hair.

"Another one."

"Seizure?" The fairy—Roxy—holds the wolf's big head in her hands, "Have you made a salve for his swelling?" She hadn't judged him when she first met him, she knew exactly who he was. He didn't know how to take that, and upon the first few months of them becoming fond of each other, Valtor could truly say he gained a friend he could rely on since...Griffin. 

"I did, it didn't last," Roxy stares at him with a brow raised, "What?"

"Just surprised you didn't say your trademark saying: 'The human world is so limited and pathetic.'" she chuckles and stands, moving toward the doors to flip the sign to 'closed', "We'll be out in a bit." She tells him as his wolf follows her into a backroom, yipping at her dog Artu laying in a corner.

Valtor takes one look around the shop, grimacing at the stuffed toys on display and teleports himself out of the building, and onto the top of a clock tower.

The air was getting colder now, but the life around this world got warmer with each change. He perches himself on the edge, watching the last days of the sun fade from existence, and with it, watches the humans down below him come and go.

Horns honked, people talked and shouted, children shrieked and laughed and the faint sound of music touched his ears. Humans were... busier than most of the magical dimensions. in some countries, more or less political and free. They had to work stwice as hard to achieve what they wanted, and it was normal to them. 

Plant a tree, it takes some thirty earth years for them to be fully mature. Whereas in the magical dimension, plant a tree, maybe use even a bit of magic, it'll appear as if it had just been grown decades ago.

Maybe it was because he was so used to magic being in the air.

The first day he spent in the human world after all these years had him confused. Humans had forgotten about the magic they'd possessed, and when he noted the lack of magic in the air, save for the one fairy back in Gardenia, he felt strange. Like he was the foreigner that didn't belong—which was true in most cases.

A ball of dim light appears in his hands, holding his hand up to his face, he examines it as he bends a knee and puts his arm on top of it, changing the angle of his hand. As he does this, the light doesn't extinguish, or fall out of his hand, it slides to where it's still above his hand. 

His magic, now that of a baser, lesser magic caster's mana well, felt weird. _This is how it should've been._ But it wasn't his choice to be made now was it?

But he was spared, Fate had plans for him as he was ready to die, but why had he been given a second chance? He still wondered, and often did not sleep because of it—he already couldn't sleep because of nightmares, when with the Ancestral Witches gone, so that was a very welcome distraction at times.

_A devil-spawn like me getting a second chance._ He scoffs at the thought, stands and dusts off his pants and teleports himself back to the fairy and his wolf.

"So you... mauled another deer?" Roxy stares in mind confusion and horror at the wolf, "Why?" Aries barks at the fairy and tilts his nose up in the air, scenting him but not moving from his place on a silk pillow,

"You know, taking pleasure in other peoples annoyance is wrong right?"

"You humans do it all the time."

"Hey! Hey! Let's not make this personal," she waves a hand at him dismissively and walks over to him, pointing to his head, "What's with the haircut?"

"Let's not make this personal," he repeats with a slight smile, "It's just a haircut."

"Uh-huh. You look... different."

"As horrible as I look?" He grunts, "Different is... A new thing for me."

Roxy nods, pursing her lips and leaning against the countertop next to him, "Change'll do that to some people," they watch as the rest of the fairy animals hover over Aries in a teasing manner, barely just dodging out of the way of his teeth that snap at them, "Look, the Winx are going to be staying over for the summer starting tomorrow, and you probably don't want to be in their presence..." 

Valtor gives her a look, "Or okay!" She throws her hands up in the air, "Let them know one of their greatest enemies still lives and no one other me is still talking to him."

"I'd just say you were my accomplice from the very beginning to make it seem real," he chuckles as she dramatically gasps, hands flying to her face.

"Who's body are we hiding?!" Aries barks twice in their direction, "No you are _not_ killing another deer you crazy wolf!"

"It's useless, you're only talking to a deaf wolf," And with the injury came his memory loss. Apparently, according to Roxy, chasing a deer was the last thing he could remember, so Aries, for all he's worth, spends his time hunting deer to make himself remember everything before the injury, "Surprised that deer aren't extinct by now from his many antlers he's brought me."

She shrugs, "Eh, I mean, I would also probably do the last thing I remember to remember what I was doing before. Amazing how even with swelled brain tissue he's smart enough to do such a thing as that," a frown pulls at her thoughtful expression, "How many?" 

"How many what?" Artu growls at Aries, snapping at his tail and trotting over to Roxy, leaving the wolf that was much bigger than him cowering behind a fairy animal. Valtor resists rolling his eyes.

"Antlers?"

"Fifteen was made yesterday," He found the half eaten body of a deer not too far away from his house, and Aries with a broken antler in his mouth, unaware of Valtor's second thoughts about him.

"Well, since you've already made a fancy mantle or two out of it why not just..." She trails.

A brow raises in her direction, "Just?"

"Give me two of the best ones so I can make a wreath?"

He blows a breath, "Sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So since Nickelodeon decided to go and yeet tf outta our earth fairy... Imma do her one better. Next chapter. In her pov.
> 
> _Quickly now. Let's yeet Nick like they yeeted Roxy_


	3. Chapter 3

Roxy was great at keeping secrets. 

Even just the smallest things.

So when the former most powerful wizard in all the magical dimensions appeared at her doorstep, she realized she had to keep one big secret all to herself. _One. Big. Secret. _

"You're supposed to be dead." He doesn't answer, and the bags underneath his eyes look worse than they had been an hour ago. The magic under her fingertips surges, hovering them over the crack in the wolf's skull as she uses tweezers in her other hand to get the fragments out. Valtor watches her movements carefully, Roxy immediately thinking he's not even conscious of his observation. "How are—"

His gravelly voice cuts her off, "If you ask me another question that doesn't involve my being alive—"

"You'll what? Burn me to cinders? Send me to a pocket dimension?" Roxy clicks her tongue and sets the tweezers down, bringing her other hand on the other side of the one hovering over the now magically mending bone, "Don't think that tiny little ember you call magic will stop me from chucking you off the balcony." She barely even picked it up when he crossed the entryway to her apartment. 

A grunt escapes him, "You sound like Griffin."

"Head Witchtress Griffin has nothing to do with my questions." After the last of the bone mended, the skin above it closed faster than the bone underneath it, leaving behind a naked patch of red skin. "I've done most of what I could for the poor guy. If the head ends up swelling, I guess you somehow already know how to find me." Gently, she pats the wolf's side and tosses her gloves in the nearby trash bin, facing Valtor.

"You gonna answer my questions or what?"

An eyebrow arches, "Do I have to?"

"If you don't want me calling the Winx then, yeah." She retorts with a frown, heading into the kitchen to wash her hands, "I don't have much but will pizza be fine?"

A confused look crosses his features, "I... What?"

"Do you even know what food is?" She questions, placing six slices of pizza onto a place and into the microwave and setting the time to three minutes, "Or are you one of those high and mighty and _oh-so full of yourselfers?"_

"I know what food is." He defends with a scowl.

"Have you eaten?"

A heavy sigh escapes him, "Not in a day or so."

"Then pizza you shall eat." The microwave chimes four times before it stops, "How many pieces?" She glances at him while putting two slices onto a plate, "Don't answer that."  
She burns herself touching the bottom of the plate she heated up after handing him his, and sitting down in the chair across from him. "So, back to my first question," She starts, "Why aren't dead like the Winx said you were?"

"The ember within me you insulted is... part of the reason."

"Is that why your skin looks grey?" Her eyes glanced over his hunched form. A hum sounds from her, biting into her food, "How unfortunate."  
Valtor's face twists into a sneer, "Very."

"Hey! Don't blame me for your failure. Now tell me how you managed."

* * *

Valtor, to say the least was honest with everything he'd told her. As much as he scolded himself for not thinking his thinking through, he was... relived, and at the same time wary. He didn't actually know if the fairy was going to turn him over to the Magi Council whilst still in his weakned state.

"I survived because I am apart of the Dragon Flame we both possess. One cannot exist without the other." He chews the inside of his cheek, "My Dragon Flame is extremely weak, unfortunately, otherwise, the idiot would've been healed." He nods over to the wolf.

"Does Bloom know?"

"No. And I would like to keep it that way."

"What makes you think I won't call them?" 

He turns his bored gaze to her with a raised brow, "Can I at least say that I'm innocent as of right now?"

"Oh, I don't know, considering how much damage you put the entirety of the magical dimension through..."

"The damage wasn't permanent, fairy."

"Maybe to you. But the realms were left out of order for a while thinking you were coming back. Especially Bloom's parents."  
His nose crinkles, like a bad odor had invaded the room. He'd heard of the return of Marion and Oritel years ago and the beloved princesses.

He felt freer when his connection to the ancestral witches was destroyed, no longer feeling them searching for the hidden strings to his part of the flame, but it wasn't there, it was extinguished. As the time passed, it slowly grew into an ember, but that was the only thing he'd seen it become.

The only thing about being free from their grasp was the nightmares. He wasn't _completely_ free of them, nor in their clutches even after death. He doesn't know if he should at least attempt to go to their old residing place, to at least try to sense any trace of their magic... He's certain he'd be killed in sight if anyone caught wind of him being on Domino, or anywhere in the magical dimensions.

"You gonna eat that pizza or what?" A few strings of melted cheese connect to the tips of her fingers and her mouth.

He pushes the plate towards her, "I never said I had an appetite."

Roxy narrows her eyes at him, extending a hand out towards his face. He almost flinched then, if she hadn't pulled a stray leaf out of his hair, "No, no, no. You aren't leaving here without eating. And to be honest, you look like you could die if I poked you with a spoon."

"How are you going to poke me with a spoon?" A frown pulls at his face.

"Well I could shove it up your nose or in your eye, your choice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ the pain I will put Valtor through will be inevitable._


	4. Chapter 4

"You seriously need some color in this house." Roxy critiques, frowning in distaste at the patterned grey walls of the study.

"Your hair is already enough color what more do you think I need?" He mutters, not looking up from his book.

"Color, I mean look at you! You actually look like a vampire—all pale and cranky..." He hears her take a few steps away from him, "And freaking _old."_

Scowling, he snaps his book shut and glares up at her, "I am not old." 

"Ooh. Touchy. How old are you exactly?" He ignores her, favoring instead brush his fingers through Aries's fur, who lay draped on the couch starting up at the ceiling. The wolf clearly didn't want to participate in the conversation like he usually did due to the headaches he'd been getting. "Five hundred?" 

"Did you come here to pester me with your questions fairy?" 

She presses, "Six? Seven thousand?" When he doesn't answer, she gasps, "So old. No wonder why you look dead inside."

"Not _that_ old." The glare he gives her is anything but annoyed, "Lower."

"Hmm. Two thousand?" 

"Lower."

"Seven hundred?" _By the realms—_

"Approximately over a thousand years old." Roxy gives a noise of triumph, rolling his eyes, he pulls another book from the shelf above his desk, "You loose the exact count after a certain amount of time."

"So how much do you know of say... Nine hundred years?" She questioned.

Valtor tenses, hands tightening around the book where a shadow of talons took form, "Besides my creation, and everything before my imprisonment in the Omega Dimension, not much else." But what he could remember was something he refused to look back on. Everything left a mark, like he did whenever he claimed something as his own. The Witches had left one on him that was difficult to bury.

His talons fade away, and the grasp on the book loosened just a bit, "Is that all the questions you wanted to ask or are there more?"

"I don't know? I came to hangout with you mostly." The weirdest thing with Roxy is that she wouldn't leave him alone. Even when he wanted to be left alone. He didn't know if it was a human thing—to not know when someone wanted space away from others—but it weirded him out until one day he asked her why she wouldn't leave him alone. She told him she saw the pain he tried to hide when he walked into her apartment, that he couldn't hide pain behind a glass window. He wanted to know what she knew to understand a look, a feeling of pain...

"I have nothing here that would interest you fairy."

"Names not fairy grandpa." Roxy sticks her tongue out at him as he gives her another glare over his shoulder, "Wanna go for a walk?"

* * *

"That tree must really not like you." She quips, hands on her hips. "What did you do to make it mad?"

His mouth opens, then closes. Dusting himself off he whirls, heading deeper into the forest, "Grandpa! Wait! Let me hold your hand! Your old bones!" _This child..._

"These trees are all keyed to a source of magic—magic far older than I."

"The Earth magic?" Her head tilts in thought, "So I hadn't heard any stories of you coming here to 'steal magic', why is that?"

"Simply because there was none at the time."

"But there was the Wizards of the Black Circle and the White Circle." Which didn't appear until the Wizards got nearer to their search, "And then the Earth Fairies weren't gone, just trapped in a different realm."

He climbs onto a fallen log, extending a hand down to her, "The Wizards, I remember, weren't really full of the magic I wanted, what they had was fit for a child—the White Circle, however..." He hops down, knees bucking at the impact below him. Not old... "In order for this mortal world to retain its lost magic, it had to find its way back somehow. I never bothered trying to come here and unravel every dark spell those wizards had cast. So I never touched this place in hopes that it would someday return by itself." 

"Well it's returning, very slowly might I add."

"Very," he agreed. "Where other realms had their own separate pocket dimensions, this world is reviving the portals between them."

"You know about them?" 

"I don't know much." He murmurs, stopping when he feels he's deep enough into the forest. Me crouches, a hand burying into the leaves and dirt below it, feeling the tiny veins of magic that ran in veins through the earth. It, like him, was returning, slowly growing, slowly shaping into something. Only, it seemed like he wasn't doing anything. A part of him was missing. Empty, he realized.

"Are you okay?" She slowly crouches down next to him, gently placing a hand onto his shoulder as to not startle him.

"It's small," his head lifts, bringing his gaze to the foliage around him, "Barely noticeable, but, heavy. Deep. This was once a slumbering beast." It wasn't there before, barely anything there, but now that he could sense it growing... "It's a Guardian." A corner of his mouth curves into a smile.

"What's that?"

He stands, dusting his hand of the dirt that remained, "Slumbering beasts that rose once, long before the fall of Earthen Magic. Why they rose was lost to time." Only a handful of realms in the magical dimension had their own protection from far greater threats than him.

It surprised him that this one in particular had more than just one. Old myths and legends were true and some false, in their own sense, but if a realm needed more than one guardian, would there still be a threat big enough to awaken them? "We should head back. It's getting dark."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I tell u that this was mostly in Valtor's POV? No? Ok. BECAUSE IT IS. Bloom will appear a bit later just not now.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a matter of being annoyed and a matter of slightly being annoyed. He was neither, but he was amused regardless. 

"How did you break it?" He questions the youth with an arched brow. He already knew the answer, though. He saw the child break his bow over the head of his bully before he entered the building. Valtor might have been cruel before, but he would rightfully say it was well deserved. You can't interfere with music unless you want music to come back and beat you senseless. 

Into a relaxing state, that is.

"I—I broke it over Charles's head." He admits.

"And do you think he deserved it?" 

The boy gives him a relieved look upon seeing not a single trace of disappointment in his face, "Yeah. I might have knocked him out though."

"You didn't check to see?"

He shakes his head, thumb scraping on the carved side of the broken wood, "I've seen him get bit by a chair and not be changed by it. So I thought he was going to shake it off at tackle me to the ground." 

Valtor nods, "I'm not mad."

"You aren't?"

"No, I can replace it." He takes the broken pieces from the boy and reaches into his desk to pull out the spare bow. Music had always had a special place in whatever he considered a 'heart'. When he was created, his mother's didn't allow him to have a heart, but he did regardless. So he opened the studio for anyone else that shared the same sentiment in a quiet town surrounded by miles and miles of forest and mountains. "It's not the same as the carvings but—"

"Thank you Mr. Ajayveer!" 

"You're... welcome." The boy leaves, Valtor remaining in a state of confusion. He just gave away a gift he received—one that was very old and held a lot of memories. Griffin was someone who he'd once considered a friend, but now? That friendship was nothing more than ash in the wind.

"Aww. It must be an early Christmas for Kine." Roxy appears in the doorway, a cheeky grin plastered onto her face.

"Quiet you." He closes the desk, digging heavily when he heard the front doorbell jingle to signal the last person leaving.

"B-but grandpa! I've flown a thousand miles—" He throws her an irritated glance, "Okay I teleported halfway across the planet just to show you this cute snake I got—"

_"Snake?"_

"There is no snake and I actually wanted to tell you..." She trails off and sits in the chair opposite of him, "I actually have nothing to tell you."

"Then why... are you here?"

"Simply because I want you to take one good look at this beautiful face and rate it out of ten." Roxy's shenanigans had been rubbing off on him, in more ways than he'd like. Yes, her company was mildly enjoyable whenever she didn't speak, but in all honesty, he wanted to toss her off the nearby mountain whenever she did. But he didn't.

"Three." A noise of outrage, "And a half."

"Three?! Why not five?" 

"Because going anywhere over five would encourage you to bother me."

Her nose scrunches as she stands up from her seat, "You are one cranky witch—"

"I prefer the term: 'wizard'."

"—warlock then."

"I don't dabble in the arts of witchcraft."

Marching around the desk, she takes him by the hand and attempts to pull him out of the chair, "Alright you depressed chicken nugget, we're going to out." 

"Where?"

_"Out."_

* * *

"Where are we?" He asks her after steadying himself on the concrete pavement under his feet.

"A cute little bakery in a isolated town." The town itself did not look isolated. People walked past them, ignoring them for the most part as they stepped out of the alleyway, "There's a Fair going on so I come here as often as I can to stock up on candy."

"You are an immature child that needs help."

"Amen." Once again, she links her arm with his and drags him into the shop next to them. 

The smell of freshly baked treats greeted them as they walked (Roxy was practically dragging him so it didn't matter.) With the Fair doing on outside, there were only a handful of people here, some in line and some in booths.

_"Mon amie!_ Roxy!" An elderly woman greets. She wraps Roxy in a hug, planting a kiss on both cheeks.

"Hello Gretchen. How's the leg?"

"I'm fine, _ne t'en fais pas."_ Finally, she notices Valtor with his arm still held captive by Roxy, and a spark of recognition flares up from behind her cheery demeanor, "And who's zis?"

"My captive. I'm going to help him lighten up before I beat him with a lamp." She grins up at him, meeting Valtor's glare with a look of mischief.

"I'm Ajayveer."

"Also known as Valtor, yes?" Ah. The first person in a long time figuring out who he was. He stiffened, slowly jerking his arm out of Roxy's hold and nods his head in confirmation. He wasn't sure what the woman was. But if she knew anything about the Magics Counci—if she was from any of the known dimensions—she'd report him.

His magic still wasn't strong enough to take on even at least one fairy.  
But he wasn't going to have that. He would fight before he was locked up again. Regardless the tax it would weigh on him.

"Do not worry. Dearest Roxy has vouched for you." Her eyes drift down to his chest, as if she could peer into his soul where his Flame resided,

"You have yet to cause more... destruction. And I would like for you to keep it zhat way. We all would."

* * *

"Do you bite or blow ice cream?" The question is asked with such stupidity, that even Valtor felt like an idiot in that moment.

"Why does that matter?" He questioned.

"Because I need to test of you're secretly dumb and chaotic like me." Valtor rolls his eyes and turns to face her, leaning his back on the rail,

"Wait, you bite ice cream?"

"Will it make you quiet?"

Roxy ponders for a moment, "My brain'll probably stop working, so go for it." 

He does, and graciously, Roxy is silent for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #  _Fuck Netflix and I'm sorry Nick and 4kids_
> 
> It's just the greatest offense ever ok?
> 
> On the other hand, I think I got the French correct? I think. Maybe?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah man... Be prepared for the long note at the end ok

She can taste the wrongness in the air. But that's funny, considering she's made from pure darkness. Every scent, every drop of magic, every living thing that latched onto magic like a leech, their shadows filling the void...

And yet... somehow, it was foreign to even her—a child of darkness. It felt old and cold, older than even her. It was darker, darker than the nights on Obsidian.

_Is this a memory?_ But she doesn't remember this at all. Especially the chunks of rock that drifted and collided with each other—and the darkened light of a core that had once belonged to a world, multiple in fact.

Her head swivels around, eyes searching for something, anything other than rock and total blackness. _"It... is time."_ A voice hissed, bringing forth fear and dread and a sense of familiarity. _"We have waited... for so long..."_

The scene in front of her shifts, turning into a place a part of her once called home. _Draik._

_"Child of darkness, pure and bold... Will you release the seals that are strong and old?"_ Another voice croaks. But no matter where she turned, she could not find the source of the voices. Without her wanting to, she grows closer to her homeland, floating past islands of darkness, _"Or will the seals stand tall whilst we fall?"_

Closer and closer, a feeling grew. She was not great with feelings. They were a nuisance. This one was strong, and it called out to her. She wanted to answer that call, but her body was not her own. _"Deep, yet... we still slumber... All the realms have yet to plunder..."_ Another voice, but this one didn't sound too far away from her. She stopped seeing floating islands and continents minutes ago. Could swear she saw the dull, muted glow of five beings under the dark clouds, _"Eons, we've slept. Eons, we've dreamed... Three too many, three too low." _

As the feeling grew, the air grew colder. Then stones of black appeared in her view—one familiar stone she recognized as the temple of Bfrödja. Her descent slows as her feet touch the blackstone. She remembered this place, deep within the heart of Draik were the Neverlands—a realm that only a select few were allowed in to venture. Mostly the priests and Acolytes entered and exited without a scratch... 

"Endings have meanings, child. This one is long due." A soft voice rasps from behind her. The hooded figure materializes at her side, the dull shade of their grey cloak shifting as they turn to her, "What is your purpose, child?"

"Purpose?"

"Do you know why you are here, Mandragora?" They question, using the name she hadn't heard for quite some time. Her silence is an answer enough for them to continue, "You have been summoned, and you will answer their calls." They move—or glide—onward, their robes swishing around them like a second skin. She's heard stories of the Acolytes that we're raised with a second skin. Mandragora never had seen one before, due to never venturing beyond Obsidian as the chosen protector. But that was gone now, even here in this moment, the familiar comfort, the familiar weight in her chest was gone.

The Acolyte leads her up the stark white steps, past the sculpted Wyverns and into the darkened temple. "We worship in the dark, child." They answer her unsaid question, "Our only source is the path of The Five. Bright enough to guide us." 

"I can't see a thing." Even as her eyes try to adjust to the dark, this type of darkness confused her. She could have sworn she saw the darkness writhe the longer she started.

"What you are trying to see through is their essence. Purest darkness in it's true form." She flinches, a cold hand takes her by the arm and pulls her inside, "I will guide you, child." The Alcolyte tugs firmly on her arm, pushing forward into the temple. For minutes, they walk, and for minutes, Mandragora can make-out the outlines of pillars and statues. The air grows cold—much more so than the ice of the Peaks of Draik. Naturally, she's unbothered by the cold, to a certain degree.

"Your mind runs like the rock in the mountain." They say after stopping, releasing her arm. She can feel their eyes examining every inch of her, "Yet, not even I can peer into your mind."

A sneer pulls at her lips, though, she hadn't even noticed an intrusion attempt, "You can stop trying to pick at the threads."

"Threads that are connected to our Beloved Five." She feels them move, instinctively tensing when their cold fingers touch the spot above her nose ridge. They mutter a few indecipherable words and pull away, leaving behind a dull throb of a headache at her temples. "As we Descend deeper into the Heart, you'll need a blessing."

Mandragora rubs the side of her face glaring at the place where she thinks the Acolyte would be standing, "What blessing?"

"A blessing of a servant. Seeing as you already have a mark of the Five, I gave you another to enhance your..." They pause, a soft intake of breath can be heard from them, "We must continue onward. They do not like to be kept waiting."

Irritated, she allows herself to be dragged along by the Acolyte, using her free hand to rub her temple. Despite being the protector of Obsidian, her knowledge of the Five was limited. They were created during the time of the Great Dragon, some say before, some say after.

No one could ever be valid with history. Even if it was their own. Only a few things she had seen in her lifetime had matched up to them in some way. Darkar might have been opposite of the Dragon Flame, but the Shadow Phoenix was a servant of darkness just as much as anyone of it.

_I wonder how His Shadowness is doing in Oblivion._ She muses to herself, no longer bothered by the grip on her arm, or the icy air that wrapped around her like a coiling snake.

Deeper they went, and the lighter the air became. Her eyes had adjusted a minute after the acolyte touched her forehead, and walked without a cold hand dragging her through the dark. 

Which was a relief because acolyte or no, they were going to get tossed into another dimension of they didn't keep their cold, dead hands away from her limbs.

And even after that, she felt a strange sensation brushing against her magic. Immediately, she recoiled, the memory of three Ancestral Witches' magic invading her body making her shudder. 

After her defeat, she learned a new lesson: never accept magic from powerful beings if you don't want a mark left on your mind. It left a nasty one for Mandragora, and still, she struggled to rid herself of the sour magic in her body. It was like a reminder—that she was still a servant of the Witches that brought about her... being.

They stop a few paces ahead of her, "We are here." Then her vision is bathed in white light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know(s):
> 
> So I added a few things, maybe even took a few things from Mandragora and made them just a tad bit better since she's mostly a forgotten villan.
> 
> 1\. She's the keeper of the Obsidian Circle—the prison to keep the Ancestral Witches Contained. She originally gets corrupted by the dimensions darkness, and locked inside of Obsidian herself. 
> 
> Things added: _If_ she was a fairy, (which explains the shadowy wings she has) she would've likely died in Obsidian in less than a day due to how potent the darkness of Obsidian is (She can control insects so I'm guessing she was once the Fairy of Insects?). The witches, being the three weird-ass mothers they are, see her dead corpse and decide to reanimate her as a Child of Darkness using Obsidian's Dark essence (Season 3 when Bloom goes to Pyros and gets the essence of the planet and the Omega Dimension's).
> 
> And basically, to my original point... I think...
> 
> Mandragora is Valtor's _Sister_, because I cannot let go of the idea of Valtor NOT having any siblings that the Ancestral witches had created.
> 
> And I might be having a meltdown because so far I think this is waaaaay better than that... Trash that will not be named. But that's just my opinion ok?


End file.
